


Flashes of Their Life

by credensjusitiam



Category: Bourne (Movies), Bourne Series - All Media Types, The Bourne Supremacy (2004)
Genre: Character Study, Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Headcanon, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Likely going to try a chapter fic based on ideas in this, Neither are quite functional adults, No Plot/Plotless, Not Beta Read, Post-Bourne Identity, Pre-Supremacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26352307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/credensjusitiam/pseuds/credensjusitiam
Summary: Things were quiet, a little too quiet. Marie had not been running around the cottage in an attempt to keep herself busy and Jason begins to get worried. As he looks for her, he starts thinking back.
Relationships: Jason Bourne/Marie Kreutz
Kudos: 5





	Flashes of Their Life

**Author's Note:**

> One more fic that I managed to knock out while I was taking a vacation from work. I tried to play around with multiple ideas I had over the past few years and then tried to link them, but I don't think it worked great. One day I might revisit this and try to make it into something more concise? Maybe make it into a long in-depth chapter fic and explore what happened between Greece and Goa? 
> 
> /sigh/ Another of the dozens of ideas and false starts I have. I hope one day I can manage to finish half the things I'd like to.
> 
> Also realized that I screwed up the details of Marie's shop so let's just pretend that's AU or something. Sorry, everyone that's entirely my bad.
> 
> This is movie-verse and not novel/book verse.
> 
> I do not own anything.

“Marie?”

His voice was soft as he took a few steps out onto the porch and his eyes peeled looking for a sign of something being “wrong” with the unusually quiet (all he could hear the was a faint rush of waves from the ocean, the trees rustling in the ever-increasing breeze, and his heartbeat in the ears as if he anticipated to find something amiss) evening. Typically Marie would have been telling some sort of story or rustling through the drawers as she dug out the art supplies she had either stashed away. Sometimes she would be brewing tea and trying to search the bookshelf of one of the many paperbacks she had managed to pick up in the marketplace. Or she would be getting ready to make a new anklet or necklace while waiting for the kettle to boil and carefully picking the colorful beads or charms that she wanted to try using. There were days where she set up an easel (though it was a rickety old thing that was one breath away from collapsing) and attempted to paint something - usually, a scene from the house, though she had always been careful to keep Jason out of her paintings - she had tried to paint him once but he was not the easiest model and he had protested the entire time until she had given up before managing even a sketch to work out of - and whenever she could not easily she tried to obscure and change the details of the half of a person who made it onto the canvas turning him into either a shadow or into someone else entirely. On one occasion she had gone back and changed the rough sketch of the human figure into a self-portrait of herself with changed hair and eyes. 

She was always keeping herself busy and there was always a sign of her that he could see or hear. She always had been making some noise or was moving around from room to room when they were together during their quiet nights and even when she had been running the scooter rental shop in Greece. The only time it was ever normal for things to be quiet was during the early morning hours when she was sleeping and entirely out to the world. Jason would start making coffee and a mental list of what he needed to help with before the shop would open. Once he finished with those tasks, he would straighten up the living room then go and run routine patience on the sitting scooters. Now that they were in Goa, he started mornings off with making tea (he had slowly grown to prefer tea to coffee) and running up and down the beach. After a shower and a change of clothes, he would start on something else. Sometimes he preferred going into the study, a small room that Marie had deemed his so he could have a quiet space, and trying to see if he could flesh out any of the scarce details about the previous night’s dream.

He could still remember that shop as if he had only been there yesterday. It had stood out compared to all the other places they had been. 

Her flat had been a cramped couple of rooms above the much more airy shop. The cabinets above the sink and counter were filled to the brim with various colored and sized plates, mugs, and glasses. Silverware had been sitting all out of sorts in the drawer nearest the skin. She had pots and pans sitting out on top of the old oven or the ancient wooden table she had later told him had been sitting in the building since before she started renting it. She had suspected the table was someone’s kitchen table and based on the old coffee stains Jason was unable to argue with that theory. She had set up shelves on her own in the other room that served as a bedroom and living room and they had been crammed with books and small baskets and wooden boxes. Nothing had been marked and he had been surprised to see that something he had initially suspected was a First Aid kit had instead been filled with small tubes of paints and that the First Aid Kit was instead a larger dented box that had been hastily painted in a mix of purple and blue. She had strung lights (Jason had noted they looked like some sort of second hand Christmas lights and a few of the bulbs had appeared to have long burnt out.) on the ceiling above an old box bed on the opposite side of the front door. When he had first arrived, he had noted that the bed was covered from top to bottom with mismatching blankets and pillows and for a moment he wondered why there were so many things lying on top of a bed and if Marie even slept there, if there had even been room for her to sleep on the bed in the first place. Then there were the many half-painted canvases leaning against the wall, the few that seemed to be finished were hanging up without frames, the small coffee table that was covered in hand made bracelets and small bags of beads, a pair of pliers, scissors that still looked close to new, and assorted wire, silver chains, and elastic, and a few cups holding worn brushes sitting on a windowsill. Some had seen better days and he wondered if she had forgotten to clean them properly.

His eyes then fell onto a worn cushion that was in front of the table. It was a faded blue with green dots and then his eyes had moved to what he was sure was a recently finished anklet (or, he quickly paused, was it a bracelet?) of beads (some looked to be painted orange and others red) with a flower charm that was to hang loosely off of it. Beads were sitting and lined up behind the recently finished item as if she had picked what she had wanted to use but had not gotten farther than that. Then he saw a crumpled sweater on the floor next to the cushion, it was like the red one she favored but deep green.

(He instantly wondered if Marie sat on the floor while she worked.)

There had only been the front door as an entry and exit point, though he was sure that a jump from the window nearest to the front door would not prove fatal in a pinch - he couldn’t be sure if he would be able to make it onto the lower roof that was above where Marie kept the scooters but it seemed likely if the situation became desperate enough an escape could have been attempted this way. 

\---------------------

_“Marie, do you still knit?”_

_“Yes, why?”_

_She had pointed to shelves and with a raised eyebrow and a tone of voice, “The green box and the red one. The needles are in the red box, but I also have some needles in my shopping bag.”_

_He nodded._

_“I mean, you never know, and sometimes when I decide to go inland it’s nice to have something to do while I’m on the ferry.”_

_“I think hair sticks might be better.”_

_“Hairsticks?”_

_He nods._

_"Why?"_

_“It would be faster to wear those when you go out if something happens. You can just pull them out and-”_

_Marie frowned and he cut off his explanation._

_“Marie, even if your life was still normal I would still think you need to learn how to protect yourself.”_

_He had a point and she knew it._

_“How would I do that with those then?”_

_Jason had given her a slightly relieved look as he had considered her asking him that question as a sign that she was a little more open to the idea than she would have been back in Paris. He had walked over to her and tried to give her a quick demonstration of what she would or could do with them._

_She had started to carry sharpened hairsticks on her whether in her purse or her hair from the next day on._

\---------------------

In comparison, their small cottage in Goa, the place they had only recently decided to remain to live at, was a lot roomier and had a lot fewer things sitting around both cluttering the few rooms while collecting dust. At the time, Jason had seen and if he was being honest with himself he still felt as if there was no need for any of it. At first, he had thought of such things as providing information to someone who wanted to them harm but then his mind went to how much money each small item could amount to and where it could be better spent. He could see it going towards new passports or papers. On adding to the stash of money that they had hidden at the old shack that Jason had found and purchased shortly after the cottage. On replacement parts for the jeep. At first, they had both agreed on keeping things purely livable in case they were discovered but as time passed they both began to talk about staying and eventually decided that it was safe enough to stay. Jason had mentioned keeping their living quarters simple regardless. They could get odd jobs, but it would be best to preserve what money Jason had for a true emergency.

Yet, Marie had started to slowly introduce decorations. She had not gone as far as she had in the past, but she had started buying and hanging up light-colored curtains and sheets around the bedroom and kitchen, small handmade pots, nothing that was too big or showy. The most she had spent was on a quilt that had been placed on their bed. Something that had not been too confining (as a number of other blankets and comforters had been deemed) but something that Marie could curl up under when she had felt chilly in the evenings All of what she had bought were made up of mostly tiny things that turned a merely temporary (though he knew they had decided to stay, it has hard to entirely shake the urge to leave things a simple as possible) shelter into something a bit more personal - he suspected that she was trying to make another home for herself. She had seemed to, even if she never answered any questions he ever had about that short time of separation and she would argue with him about how months apart was far from a “short time”, had made that small flat and the shop underneath of it - the places that had been right next to the water - into something of her own. He could imagine how excited she must have been when she realized she had the means to whatever she had wanted, but sometimes he wondered if has been a way to cope and make things feel a bit more normal and that she had opened a shop to feel a little less lonely. She, unlike himself, had needed to be able to talk to others. She had used to have dozens and dozens of friends (he debates that most of them really were her friend, though) and was always coming and going from some sort of adventure or scheme. That was just Marie. She needed that to thrive. She liked being among people. But she needed it as well like everyone needed air or water.

Deep down, he suspected that she had always known that her life as she had known it was over but she had been unable to throw away something that she had (known or not known) needed. While Marie knew hse could no longer live as she had, she likely saw the store as a means to get somewhat close to that old life while keeping her head down as much as she could. The German woman had kept to herself as much as she could while playing her role. There had been no friends or new lover. She had admitted she had never written her family though she had written letters and burnt them. The woman who ran the local grocery that was a short walk away from the flat had been surprised to see her walking around the shop with him. She had never even mentioned one bit of her past to anyone she had to speak to. The people here did know about them but that was from his keeping close to her for the first week and from the fact the man int he real estate office had seen her sitting and waiting for him in the battered old green jeep they had picked up.

“Marie?”

He glanced into their kitchen to see if Marie had managed to sneak into the room, she typically made one last cup of tea before bed when it was a day that involved going into the market. She was likely going to need to do this the next day as well as she had forgotten about needing sugar and a couple of bars of soap. She said that it helped her decompress and that it helped her want to go to sleep. There had been a joke about how the idea of going into town made her feel wound up especially since the trips were so much further apart than she had thought they would be. 

“Marie?”

The room was empty, the kettle sitting where it had been placed after breakfast, and everything minus the drying dishes had been long put away after their light supper of bread and sliced fruit. All that seemed out of place were the newspapers covering the table and alone canvas - Marie had left it out - but he never needed the table for anything other than eating. They could easily move the items somewhere else in the morning. Marie had a corner where she kept all of her things for projects, she would know to look there if he did move it. The light blue curtains blew gently in the breeze coming out of the open window and brushed against the battered breadbox. But she had not been in there, not since they had cleaned up from dinner. Even her favored chair had been pushed in and the top that she had hung off the back of the chair was gone. He left the kitchen and started back into the main room trying to think of where she could have been hiding.

All she could initially think about was how she had just joked earlier that day about how much easier it was for them to work in this kitchen.

This one was not particularly big but it had been bigger than the glorified closet that had been that other kitchen. There had been barely been room for the two of them to even stand yet alone clean up or cook. Then there had been Marie’s impulse buying of certain items and not buying others and whatever storage space there had been was filled past its capacity and it was no wonder that she struggled to do much. He had remembered on one particularly rainy evening watching Marie struggle to begin cooking in that overfilled kitchen and having to tear herself away from every task Most of the time it was to find in order to find room for a finished dish and she had been loudly saying that she needed to find a mixing spoon but when five minutes had passed she had quickly grabbed and made do with a larger spoon. But then she had begun to mumble from behind the closed door and it had made Jason uneasy to hear all the commotion and more than once he had offered to come in and help. He had some ideas of where certain things might be but she had each time ignored his offer or shot him down before he could finish asking. She had been deadset on making the food especially after her attempt at explaining baking (on the morning of the first full day he had spent staying wit her) had gone south within minutes as Jason had mistaken the baking powder for soda and the cake she had decided to make had turned out dense and almost impossible to eat. 

He had apologized after watching Marie take a bite and struggle to swallow the dessert. She had seemed to understand what was the source of the problem, however, and asked Jason if he had made a mistake. When Jason had the mistake explained to him, he had found himself asking what the difference was between the two and Marie had tried to explain but she had the feeling that he had confused him more by stressing that in order to successfully bake a cake that he needed to follow the recipe in order to have it turn out. ****

He had merely tilted his head at that.

Marie then quickly tried to continue explaining upon hearing his silence, "But baking is... you can make substitutions but you can't do it willy-nilly. You have to be careful. It's easier to just follow the recipe."

He still thought about that conversation a lot and even when recipes had come up in conversation he had not quite understood until Marie had once (during a brief stint in Ukraine) had changed her wording to liken it to how she didn't follow a shopping list and then tried to cook without proper tools. That had made it a little easier to understand but the idea of following a very specific set of instructions to get a set and good result was something that felt very alien even going on two years together. His job had been made up of an objective and on occasion rough instructions on how to best accomplish it. Usually, these were vague and left open for his own judgment calls to be made but as long as the job had been done smoothly than there were no objections to his methods.

Things had continued like that until smoke began to come out of the kitchen and Jason could hear Marie cursing creatively in a mixture of German and English as she began to try to stop whatever she had been making from burning further but had managed to burn herself. He had found himself running into the room at her sounds of pain and the louder cursing that instantly followed. He had quickly but gently grabbed and lead her to the sink where he placed her reddening arm under the facet where he started to run cool water over the burn. Marie then walked him through where to find her first aid kit and watched as he walked down into the shop to retrieve it.

Jason had started to think as he had started to gently apply location to the burned area decided that the next morning he would have to do something to fix that problem.

\---------------------

_“Wait, I thought you were resting?”_

_Jason had managed to tear his gaze away from the large cardboard box that he had been filling up with things. Mostly things that appeared broken or redundant - a lot of things that were chipped or unmatching, things he had not been sure were left behind from a previous tenant or things Marie had bought but he had already pulled out at less. The fact little seemed to match at all had bothered him at first, but as he went through the different designs and colors that made up each item in the small kitchen, the more he started to appreciate what he was uncovering. Marie had not seemed to care about_

_He had hoped she had not spent money on these as they were as he picked each thing up and gave them a critical glancing over. He had been in the process of giving a pair of teacups with red flowers a once over when he realized that Marie likely expected him to answer her. His expression was something that was a mixture of sheepish and stern - as if he was trying to suppress one but it was still cracking through. He supposed that he had been caught in the middle of his lie._

_“This is relaxing.”_

_Her expression was unsure and he had not even waited for her to say anything before turning back to the small stack of pans that still sat on the ancient, beaten up, wooden table. Then she moved over to the box he was filling up and gave the box a sheepish look._

_“I had just gotten those.”_

_“These are broken.”_

_“Chipped doesn’t mean ‘broken’ broken.”_

_“Marie, you can’t use these. There’s also not enough room...”_

_She quickly changed subjects and asked, “But your headache?”_

_“I’ll rest once I finish this….”_

_She had only been downstairs minding the shop for a couple of hours and it seemed as if the mess that was her kitchen was almost contained. But, Jason was nothing if not a fast and accurate worker. She wanted to joke that it has something to do with all the “secret training” and his instance on always wiping everything down at the end of the day. She had wondered if knowing how to wipe down fingerprints correlated to being good with housework, but she had a feeling that he was someone who just knew how to take care of himself. Maybe he was the type of person who had grown up knowing how to do things like cooking and cleaning. Maybe he had a large family so he needed to help? Or maybe his parents were the kind that both worked so he had to keep things running after school? There were other theories that had popped into her head but based on his confusion to things she tried to merely imply about her own past she would easily scatch those off of the list of possibilities._

_All that remained were the items that she assumed he was going to get rid of (mostly chipped glasses, a couple of mugs where the handles had broken off - she was particularly clumsy in the morning and despite her attempts to say otherwise, he had heard her drop a couple of things as he helped sweep the downstairs or had been trying to perform some small repairs on a particularly troublesome scooter which has been rented by a particularly careless university student) and the handful for things that Jason was still pondering. He wondered if making a list and doing some quick shopping for what was missing to make using the room a little easier was something he should do before making good on his promise to Marie. But, he could feel her eyes watching him intently and suspected that she would be hovering for a while yet to make sure he did rest before his head started to bother him too badly._

_Before he had even finished speaking had taken a few quick strides over to him and held her arms out in his direction._

_“Let me help you."_

_He felt himself freeze at her arms reaching out to him and she quickly lowered them upon realizing she had surprised him._

_“Well,” she gently and playfully stated, “If that’s the case, I’ll help. But you have to lie down as soon as we’re done.”_

_Jason almost nods but he looks confused by the offer that Marie had suddenly made. She was definitely the type who would drop things she was supposed to be doing to help someone with something that may or may not be more important - it had taken a while longer than it should have to come to this opinion of her - but she was kind to a fault. She had more than hurt her own well being to help him. But she was smiling, she had been smiling, as she stood there. She stretched her arms out as if encouraging him to put something into her for her take._

_He is quiet for a moment before finally deciding to ask the question that had popped into his mind._

_“You’re not mad about the stuff I’m going to get rid of?”_

_“I… well, I.... please don’t make me keep thinking about it. I’ll seriously try and steal them back if you do. I think the mugs could be fixed up anyway.”_

_“What about the store? Isn’t it open until late today?”_

_Marie answers his questions without any hesitation and before she starts to talk she gives him a little smile and playfully shrugged her shoulders as she tried to get a comfortable grip on the items in her arms now._

_“Not a single soul has come in since this morning and those people have the scooters until dark. I have time and it was my mess to start with...” She didn’t shrug her shoulders or do anything besides reach out towards him once again, but her tone of voice sounded unconcerned with walking away from the shop, “Come on. At least let me help out with getting things in some sort of order.”_

_“What about money?” He had been made a little off guard by how nonchalantly she was about suddenly closing up the store. “I know -”_

_“One afternoon where I take a longer lunch break isn’t going to hurt us that much. Besides, it looks like it’s going to rain, so I doubt anyone’s coming unless it’s to return what they already rented.”_

_“Us?” The rest of it had not seemed to register and it caused Marie to try and fight a little laugh. She had thought they were unspoken partners since Paris. Maybe he had forgotten something again?_

_“You’re living here aren’t you? Besides, you help with maintenance and things and I used your money to buy the place...”_

_“But I gave the money to you to start a life -”_

_That was met with a roll of the eyes._

_“And you came waltzing back into my life and started helping out with things and last I checked if it was my money and store then I get to make the decisions I want with them - I want it to be both of ours.”_

_They started to put things away. Jason sorting through what had been taken out of their hiding places and directing Marie on where to put what he deemed keepable. There were a few conversations about a chipped pink mug (Jason had deemed it tossable, Marie argued that it was her favorite despite the minor damage) which ended with Marie pulling the kettle out in an attempt to prove that she used it often. There was also a conversation about the kitchen table which they had eventually settled on covering the warped wood with a table cloth once Marie could go out shopping again. As the last of the plates and bowls were carefully put away in their newly assigned spots, Jason had turned to her as she began to pour hot water into the pink mug and a black and red mug._

_When she had finally turned to face the man looking at her, she gently held a mug in his direction, instead of taking the drink he had merely asked, How did this get so bad? You’re still missing a lot of essentials.”’_

_“What am I missing?”_

_“You have a frying pan, but no spatula.”_

_Her cheeks turned a bright pink and she muttered, “I got excited when I went into the secondhand stores and I kinda forgot to use the list I made.”_

_He gave her an amused look but said nothing at least there was nothing he could even put into words. He had to admit he still did not know her very well beyond the many stories she had shared without but something about her saying that she forgot she had even made a list felt as if he had learned just one more little detail about her. One that was surprising, though perhaps it was really not all that surprising, Marie. She had always ended up just making decisions at the moment. He could almost picture her making a beeline over to the different cups and plates in the middle of a shop and struggling to pick from all the different ones. Then making multiple trips over the last few months and finding more and more things that she liked before realizing that she had no more room to put anything._

_“You made a list?”_

_She nodded, “Of course I did. I’m an adult and I’ve learned a couple of things since being a kid. One of those is that I’m not good at following shopping lists.”_

_“But you can cook.”_

_“Yeah?”, she responded as if what she was saying was obvious, “Recipes are different.”_

_“How? It’s a list-”_

_She flashed him a playful grin at his expression and as she started to reach up towards a higher shelf found himself not quite answering his question, but instead joking, “Well, you know what, I’m going to make you go and shop next time and we’ll see how that goes. And you can cook dinner tonight too.”_

_“Okay?” In Jason, that must have meant that he was aware she had not answered him._

_She decided to level with him and give him the answer._

_“It’s hard to not want cute plates and cups and things and before I knew it. I spent the money I set aside on just those and the kettle and the few other things I have. I know I should have gotten like a rice cooker and things but -”_

_He nodded more out of encouragement than out of a sense of agreement._

_“Recipes, well, if you don’t follow it… you probably poison someone or burn your apartment down. At the least, you end up wasting food by making it impossible to eat. But if you don’t have a toaster you can still do something to make toast. There are ways to get around not having something.”_

_“Until you can’t.”_

_She nodded, “But you can generally make do without certain things. Substitutions are sometimes good. You should know that much, Mr. Pen fighter.”_

_“So how come everything was stashed everywhere?”_

_Her face then turned from pink to bright red._

_“I’m not good at housework, ok? I’ve never been good at cleaning and organizing things. My apartment in Zurich would have horrified you. Your apartment was spotless and everything had its place...”_

_“Wait, what makes you think I even used anything in there.”_

_“I don’t know if you did. I just know what it looked like.”_

_She just as quickly gave him a glance over with the shoulder with a playful smile._

_His tone was flat as his eyes glanced away from her and he carefully started to pull out the morning’s groceries from the small fridge and breadbox next to it, “I doubt that.”_

_“I didn’t even have a bed. I didn’t even have a mattress. I kept all my plates on the counter and I maybe had one spoon, two forks, and a butter knife.”_

_“You slept on the floor?”_

_She nodded as she set the small stack of pans on the counter and opened a lower cabinet._

_“I think you missed the fact my kitchen was made up of a total of ten things.”_

_“Marie, you slept on the floor.”_

_She found herself trying to stifle a laugh only managing to succeed by shaking her head._

_“To be honest, it wasn’t like the bare floor and more as I slept on blankets on the floor. All I had were those shopping bags, falling apart baskets, and the old wooden boxes that were under the car seats. So really blankets, clothes, a few books, and what jewelry I had.”_

_“That must have been cold...”_

_“It was freezing.” She nodded, “The old woman next door gave me an old heater she had and I used it but I was always afraid to go to sleep at night because I was pretty sure one day it was going to end up burning the building down.”_

_He nodded._

_“So, I couldn’t sleep because it was either freezing or not sleeping because I needed to be sure I would unplug this ancient heater in case it started to spark out or something.” She found herself laughing and quickly added, “It was kinda why I lost my job. I overslept a lot...”_

_Jason frowned at that. “Wasn’t there any heat?”_

_Marie shook her head, “I was broke. It was the cheapest place I could find and nothing besides the water and electricity seemed to work okay. Sometimes I didn’t have hot water but I could at least shower.”_

_“Why didn’t you complain?”_

_“I was behind on rent. The landlord was, uh, a slumlord, I guess. Trust me, it was better to not make waves at the time. He tossed me out anyway, but I bought myself time by staying quiet.”_

_“Anyway, I needed to try and buy all sorts of stuff once I got here. Without, you know, blowing all the money you handed off to me because what if the shop failed somehow?”_

_“Was that -”_

_“Yeah, but it’s okay. Stuff’s replaceable for the most part. I’ve been recreating some of the bracelets and things that I lost and it’s been a nice way to spend the evenings when I can’t sleep.”_

\---------------------

They had left shortly after finally making the flat into something livable for both of them. It had been the end of the summer and the tourists had begun to return to their hometowns or lands, the shop’s business had begun to slow but there had been folks who did not appear to be local peering into the windows. Things had been a blur for them both once the decision was made to pack up and leave. Marie had handled packing and deciding what they might need to bring and what could be sold or donated. Things had been hectic from the time that decision had been made. It was one Marie had agreed to without much understanding of what he was so stressed and, she wanted to say, afraid of. But, after seeing his reaction and after his (second) attempt to leave her behind - she figured that it was the only way and that her choice was to go back to running a shop and living alone and with her head down or have to keep her head down but stay with someone that, she always paused when she realized the word that followed that thought, she had and still was in love with. 

She sometimes wondered if she was still rushing into things but she always had been. Maybe she was just that kind of person. She had on their last night in that flat, in the middle of the night, started to talk while they both tried and struggled to drift off to sleep. She had told him that was how she felt even after everything and despite them not knowing each other like she thought she should. 

He had stayed quiet during it all and listened.

Marie had started to fall asleep once she had gotten it out only staying awake to answer his last question.

"Marie, are you really coming with me?"

She sleepily nodded.

"I said that would back at the farmhouse. Do you remember? We were going to run together then. I was hoping that we wouldn't have to when you showed up here, but if we have to, then yes. I already said I would."

The conversation still happened occasionally. The questions changing and it would make her wording change to match, but the answer was still always the same.

Marie always had "I said that I would. Yes."

\---------------------

_“Tourist season is over.”_

_“Sometimes there are people who have trips that overlap between the normal time people take holidays and when they typically don’t. Back in the spring, I did see some people and even the locals tend to be curious about places they are newer.”_

_“It’s off.” He said in a deadpan tone. “Something about this is wrong.”_

_Marie raised her eyebrow at the cryptic words._

_“Jason?”_

_“That guy was over here earlier… the one in the white collared shirt. He didn’t change his shirt, just put on a hat.”_

_“Was he?” She found herself asking, “A lot of guys dress like that. They all kind of blend together after a point.”_

_“Marie,” he sounded as if he was trying to hold his tongue, “Do you not-”_

_“I know, I know,” she sighed interrupting as she reached for one of the vases of flowers (one that had been sitting out since the start of the week and she had forgotten to check on until this morning, “I should be paying closer attention.”_

_She could feel Jason’s eyes falling on her as she moved towards the small sink in the back corner of the shop, only partially hidden by a hastily tossed up curtain. She sighed as she looked at the browning flowers but kept otherwise silent. She carefully removed each flower as if it was made of fine china. As if it could break into pieces if she even looked at it wrong and as if setting it down gently on a table would be enough to make it shattered._

_“Yes, you should be - “ he started but his words trailed off as noticed his tone being much sharper than he liked to use around her. Sharp had tended to scare, he had at least once managed to terrify Marie with it, he stopped himself at going as far to quickly stop and try it again but the words failed to come._

_Marie had taken advantage of the silence and found herself starting to speak though it was more as if she was trying to break the silence, “But, I mean, wouldn’t they notice if I was suspicious of them? If I was paying a lot of attention towards them and not more than I typically would if someone else was passing by and I wanted a customer?”_

_She had started to gently pull at the petals on the last daisy in the vase as she tried to speak. She gave a nervous smile at the realization and felt the urge to mutter some sort of stranger version of “He loves me, he loves me not” under her breath._

_“What do you mean?”_

_“He might try to, um, engage because he thinks I’m interested in him. You know, maybe finding him attractive -” Her words trailed off for a moment before she quickly added, “if he was one of them, wouldn't that be a good opening to get close and do something?”_

_Jason gave the idea a moment's thought before nodding._

_“Maybe.”_

_“Anyway, there are times where it’s good to make that impression -” She had glanced over at him, “But you have to do more than just peeking into a shopfront.”_

_She sighed at this confusion._

_“How were you ever an assassin?”_

_He refused to say anything at that comment._

_“But, when you got a copy of that -”_

_“That’s the point, Jason. Getting that copy was a good time to feign interest in someone but I didn’t need to then either. I went in and went ‘My boss is so forgetful. He misplaced his bill and I need to get a copy for accounting so they can reimburse him for the stay. Could I have a copy, please?’ people in hotels hear things like that all the time and it helped that the guy seemed interested in me, to begin with - .”_

_Marie had by this point gathered the dead flowers and placed them in the small pink metal trash can next to the wall._

_Jason then found himself asking, “How is that different?”_

_“How do you not know how that is different? One doesn’t require staring someone down from a distance - I mean, you probably shouldn’t be doing that, to begin with. Besides, that looks different when you’re a woman.”_

_Then Marie found herself quickly trying to sum up her point, “But I wanted the copy. Not him. But if that guy wanted something wouldn't he try to come in, get a look at me or at you? He might even try to be polite or even friendly. Wouldn't it be easier to try to get my attention and make me think something’s normal - “_

_Then and quickly found herself backtracking, This person just looked in twice for just a moment and then left - you’d think a person would actually come in and try something once they got to the second visit?”_

_Jason nodded with some approval._

_“Well, in our experience they acted without needing to do any of that, but someone might decide to go that route.”_

_“Well, um, anyway, I think staring down customers is only going to end with nothing but unwanted attention. Like if I had your face every time someone came to the door, I’d have guys pouring in off the street just to tell me to smile.”_

_Jason merely gave her a small grin before found himself blurting out, “That might be good for business though.”_

_Marie froze and ducked down to cover her mouth in an attempt to not laugh._

_“But, maybe he’s just debating if he wants to rent a scooter? Or trying to figure out what we are exactly? We do have people who just come in and drink soda and look at the ocean...”_

_“Then why not come in and ask about it?”_

_Marie sighed again at that and she quietly sets the now empty vase into the sink, she then carefully peeks out from behind the curtain, her fingers clinging onto the fabric tightly. She shakes her head for the briefest moment then quietly starts to give him her theory._

_“Some people hate asking questions. Or maybe he doesn’t approve of scooters? There are a few people around here who hate me for renting them out. To be fair, some of the people who rent them are reckless. There’s another shop that if the one guy is working, he doesn’t even check for IDs…”_

_It had quickly turned into a half-joke._

_“I’m just saying that sometimes you’re trying to find a zebra but it’s just a horse.”_

_He was quiet and for a moment Marie had thought that maybe that had appeased his concerns._

_“I think we need to go. Tonight if - ”_

_“But you only just got here -” She protested, “And wait, tonight? What about the people we rented to and then we would have to figure out how to break the lease -”_

_“I’ll take care of it and trying to recoup what we can.”_

_“How long will all that take?”_

_“It’s been two weeks.” He doesn’t even address the other concern she has, “That’s long enough to find someone, and if I found you then they could have as well.”_

_She found herself then blurting out, “Well, if they had found me. Why didn’t do something by now? If it was that easy then, I don’t know, but if I were them, they would have done something by now.”_

_“Maybe - no -”_

_Jason had started thinking. She could see that look in his eyes. The one that was running every possible idea and every possible scenario to find the most likely reason for why they had been spared thus far._

_“I think we should go anyway.”_

_“But you and I haven’t been using our real names. And okay, one guy keeps having some sort of debate about if he’s going to rent a scooter -”_

_“There were others. He just stands out the most.”_

_“Jason, tourists stand out in general. But they typically dress like that guy and they glance in every shop window or have maps or are carrying large bags or wallets in their back pockets. They always seem a bit lost or a bit curious - especially if they’ve been to a particular place - they want to see what’s changed. This used to be just a small cafe, maybe some of those people had wanted to stop by and were confused that it’s different now. Maybe that was why he stopped by a second time?”_

_The back and forth had gone on for a while. Jason had grown increasingly uneasy and increasingly irritated at Marie’s flippant dismissal of what he saw as a potential problem. Marie had started to feel herself growing annoyed with Jason's apparent refusal to hear her out to take a step back and think of other reasons why someone might peek into a store window._

_Eventually, he felt himself snap, “You don’t have to come with me, but I need to go before this comes crashing down around you.”_

_He started to the stairs that were next to the sink and hidden behind the curtain fully, he had nearly taken them down in the process. She could hear him beginning to route through where he kept his clothes and she found herself calling out._

_“Jason!”_

The woman followed him nearly tripped over her own feet and then coming close ripping the curtains down. By the time she had made it he had already started to pack the bag he had arrived in town with and she felt her heart jump into her chest. He had noticed her arrival and merely looked up and stared. 

_“Don’t leave.”_

_He said something but he had stopped moving._

_“Jason.” Her tone turns from confused to a calmer one, one that gentle and much like how a mother would speak to a panicking child, “Calm down and talk to me. Try to explain what’s scaring you.”_

\---------------------

His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of a woman curled up on a swing. Her body curled into a ball in order to fit on the small seat. Her dyed blonde hair hiding her face which apparently was buried into one of the cushions that had been snuck out of the house and her arms were holding it much like a child with a stuffed animal. She was still and it had looked like she had not moved for a while. There was no sign of any wounds and he felt a little bit more relieved, but the fact she was still and asleep (he hoped it was sleep) before the time she usually tried to herd them into bed was concerning. That was very unlike her to take a nap without saying anything to her and to sleep outside was especially concerning. He had warned her that they couldn’t let their guards down, not entirely, even if somewhere seemed safe and peaceful enough. India, so far, had and he was sure that he had started to get sloppy in enforcing his usual methods for protecting them but sleeping on the porch was something he had already spoken to her about. It was too easy for something to happen.

Jason had paused at the sight. He felt himself holding his breath as he reached down at her still form afraid of what he was going to find once managed to reach her. He could feel the blood rushing to his head as his fingers brushed against her back. She was still warm, that was good. There was no sign of anything having been done. He had hoped that he would have heard something or noticed something was off beside the quiet if someone had shown up here so far away from Europe. He moved his hand to her hair and began to gently brush it out of her face, she was breathing softly, and he felt himself release his held breath. No injuries or signs of anything that might be an issue. She was merely sleeping. Nothing had happened. 

He debated about gently shaking her awake and ushering her inside, but she looked so tired. He wondered if letting her have a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. It had yet to get too chilly, it was probably comfortable for her. Marie had liked sleeping with open windows from the start. She always said that it helped her stay asleep. He merely kept his hand on her, it was keeping him calm to have the constant reminder that she was alive and sleeping peacefully.

Then something caught Jason’s eye and he pulled away ever so slightly.

Next to the swing was a book that he could only guess had been something she was reading when she had gotten tired and fallen asleep. He quietly bent down and picked up the battered novel. He wondered if it was a new one she picked up, it was a hardcover unlike the others that they had stored in the house, but it was just barely dark enough to make trying to make out the cover difficult but he figured he could wait to ask about the book - it would make for something to talk about later, though he knew Marie would likely do most of the talking, she always handled that for the both of them. Marie must have been snoozing away for a while now. When she had gone out, it was still light - there were still a few locals wandering up and down the shore and it was only just a little past mealtime. Rarely locals came up as far away from town as their cottage was far removed from the typical stomping grounds - a large reason why Jason had bothered looking at it in the first place, he typically liked being close to train stations or exit routes, but there was something about how hidden the property had been that made him think it might be good for a longer-term stay. He had put the money down after convincing himself that long as they watched how often they went into town or who they interacted with, then maybe this might be as good a place as any to stay. Marie had loved it and when she had found the abandoned bookshelves she had gotten it in her head to fill them to the brim with tomes and so far she managed to fill more than half of them with various books. She said that it was easier to read there than it had been anywhere else they had wandered and usually, she had been confined to glancing at books at local libraries as Jason looked at past newspapers. They would always leave and she would mutter about they were too quiet for reading.

His head then moved towards the trees blocking an otherwise close view of the water.

Usually, the small area that they were residing was quiet minus the typical sounds of the beach or whatever storm passed through the area, at most the only people they would see during the typical day were people like themselves or rather what they were pretending to be. They usually were couples or groups of friends - all westerners - who weaved in and out of the approached waves sometimes holding hands, trying to splash, toss, or push each other into the water while other times just looking for shells as they journeyed up and down the peach. Marie had spoken to a few people, keeping to a cover story that she had created alongside him - she had understood the people who reached out to her, they were all people who had left their own home countries looking for a warm climate and as much time as possible sitting on the beach. A lot of them were artists or some type and some were unable to hold jobs minus the occasional odd job but no one seemed particularly bothered. There was always something that could be done to pick up some cash. People tended to cycle in and out once their money was gone. Some were bored teenagers taking a gap year or trying to forgo university at all, others were graduates who were burnt out, some were just people who wandered from place to place and then back again. Hearing Marie talk about the people she had seen or encountered gave him a little more insight into her past. She had been someone who lived like that, though she had admitted she had never even finished school before he left Germany, she had just left. 

He had only managed a nod and later that evening, only after she had mentioned that much and how she felt a little jealous of the students taking gap years and how they "obviously" had so much going for them, some words of (he couldn't be sure it was praise but it was the truth) she had been on a prolonged gap year but while they had certificates and diplomas she had a lot of experiences they may never have. It made her good at thinking on her feet.

She had managed the slightest smile at that.

"You remind me of a student sometimes anyway. You still have a lot of..." he had started.

"A lot of?"

"The world hasn't beaten you down yet."

He had not liked her making contact with strangers (not that he wanted to deprive her of such a small thing but he could not be sure that who someone said they were was truly what they were), but he had eased up upon realizing that they were standing to stand out because they kept to themselves. But, he will admit that it gave her things to talk about and she seemed happier when she had something to talk about even if she did all the talking while he listened and only occasionally chimed in. He liked watching her face light up as she mentioned some of the new faces and some of the ones who were deciding to stay in India while others had good news about what they wanted to do with their lives.

Marie had never brought anyone back. She respected Jason and to some extent his survival rules too much to risk compromising both of them. She was still naive in ways, ways he hoped would never disappear - she had given him some sense of faith in people and he liked that she had that faith, it was comforting - but she was not entirely without a sense of skepticism by this point of their journey. She never made plans to meet anyone. She just went back to her routine and if they bumped into each other they went for a drink in a cafe or shopped together. Sometimes they met on the beach. One particularly energetic brunette had been the "friend' that Marie met there often and was the reason they had some tangible proof of their relationship that was not just a wanted poster or two.

(His eyes always fell on the lone photograph in the cottage and while he struggled to smile like she would when her eyes fell on the picture he had to admit it was something nice to look at. It was, perhaps, not just a terrible thing that someone had managed that shot of them.) 

Jason had never gotten close and he only ever went into town when he was looking for Marie. Or if she had needed help carrying the shopping, though those times were few and far between, usually whenever they knew the weather was going to get bad or whenever they had let supplies run too low. He had fared better being away from the constant hustle and bustle and stuck to the cottage or to running the beach. Marie had always made some excuse for another. Usually that he was working on something or that he was shy. Most of them let things go but a few always asked her how she got together with “such a scary military-looking guy” which she would merely laugh and shrug off with a joke. He had found ways to keep busy that did not require needing to see other people, the cottage almost always needed a repair or two done, and Marie had started trying to get him to try things besides journaling. He had so far proven himself a contempt sketch artist (it was easy to draw objects - he had taken to sketching corners of the room and the windows) and she had been trying to move him into painting but the smell of the paints tended to make his headaches worse. She had spent this day looking for acrylic paints or watercolors to see if that would be easier for him to try with but had come back empty-handed besides a couple of tubes of the former. She had set up a canvas for him to start with by covering their table with old wrinkled newspapers (making sure they did not contain anything that Jason wanted to hold onto) but he had yet to wander over to it. 

Marie had tried once to playfully splash him with water once as they were walking back from town carrying a couple of canvas shopping bags filled to the brim with essentials, though Marie had likely managed to sneak a few “extra” items into her shopping. It was a thing that he had gotten used to and only told her that she needed to keep such extra purchases small. She had been good at keeping them to occasional art supplies, books, or whatever snacks she could find that were from her childhood. The bag had been just a bit too heavy and only loosely hanging off of her and nearly spilled everything into the water causing her to shriek. Whenever she had managed to pull herself up she had started to curse at herself in rapid German while he stood there before taking the few steps over and taking the bag off her arm to carry himself. Then his eyes had fallen on a squealing girl in the distance who was being chased into the surf and had begun to swinging her arms in the water causing the man and other woman chasing her to become soaked with ocean water.

"You were trying to get me wet?"

She had nodded.

Jason glanced out towards the water for a moment and realized that she had never tried to do it again and wondered if he had made her feel like she couldn't be playful with him in that way.

Then his eyes fell back onto her sleeping form.

He could hear the waves crashing in between shrieks and giggles coming from the water’s edge, and he supposed that it was getting close to the time when the tide started to come in. It was no wonder that Marie likely felt comfortable enough to take a rest. The sound of the waves was something he had grown used to using as a way to center himself after a bad time. Sometimes it helped him want to rest as well, especially if trying to write down whatever nightmare or flash of memory had come to him in his sleep. He had taken to standing on the porch to feel the breeze and listen to the waves until he could face the idea of lying down again.

Sometimes he did not quite get to that point and he settled for sitting for in the study or on the porch with his head in his hands. On a few occasions, he had started his runs early or had taken some time to wipe the kitchen down. It was easier to move or to even sit up and try to think of something else to do that was neither sleep nor journaling. He had made the mistake once of trying to fix one of the curtains that Marie had put up the night before but she had woken up at the sound of the curtain rod being taken down. It had been, on that particular night, the second time he had woken her up and within the same hour. She could barely keep her eyes open and her words came out as more of a yawn but what he could hear was a mixture of languages. She had ended up sitting on the couch while he finished fixing the curtains and fallen asleep half sitting up as he had given his handiwork his approval. He had tried to carry her back into bed and only managed to after she had started to stir a third time but never fully managing to once he gave her a gentle is on the forehead. Once she had been left to rest, he had taken quick and quiet steps 

Then his eyes turned back towards the sleeping woman. It was going to be a shame to have to wake her, but it was getting darker now and the people on the beach were making their way back to town. He could probably talk her into going to bed, at least. She needed the rest, he conceded, and he only needed to finish a few things before he could join her for a while. He leaned down and picked up the fallen book frowning at the now bent pages which he tried to straighten out for a moment before shutting the book closed.

\---------------------

_The longer he spends time around Marie, the more aware he becomes of just how inexperienced he is when it comes to the behaviors of average people._

_He can’t remember kindness. He was sure that people had been kind to him once, but he cannot remember a specific time until meeting Marie. Marie having listened to him as he went over his story in the middle of that truck stop in Germany as they nibbled on sandwiches and sipped on bottled water and coffee. Then Marie having let him sleep while she drove. Her asking him what he wanted to listen to on the radio. Asking if he had a preference and insisting on listening to what he wanted even when he had said he didn't know. There was the fact she had never left even when someone had swung through a window firing a gun at them both. After watching as he fought the attacker with such brutality that he was even managing to (despite having done before) scare himself though not nearly as such as he was scaring her, as the situation was as a whole, scaring her. She had not fought him off as he grabbed her and ran from the apartment that was supposed to be his home and while she had been guarded and even at times cold when they at first spoke - she was never particularly cruel or harsh towards him. At the least, he had never considered her words to be such. But as their whirlwind time in France ended, she had been particularly kind towards him. Going to look for him in the middle of the night. Holding his hand while they took the train through the city, even it was not particularly meant to be a comforting action had been. She had stayed with him until he forced her away. She never had to but she still had in the end. He had considered all that to be someone showing him kindness. She did not try to avoid him or drive him away - if he had been mistaken after their meeting, then he would have to admit she was terrible at pushing people away. She could talk a huge deal but her eyes never matched her words or tone._

_He can't remember someone being happy to see him. He knows that at some point that also should have been something someone had shown him. He suspects that, at least for the last few years or so, that was something that he never saw. But when Marie speculates on his life, she mentions that he must have had a family and one that likely loved him very much. He wonders if she was right. She says that he has to have because he doesn't quite understand a good many of her stories from when she was a child. Marie was right. He doesn't understand them. Not entirely. But a lot of events of Marie's past cause him confusion. He isn't quite sure if it's the fact he (may or may not have) had people who looked out for him at some point or if it was because a lot of her decisions are ones he is sure he wouldn't have made. But whenever she had mentioned her mother who had abandoned her, he feels some sense of sadness. He can't remember his mother and he wonders if he even had one on the nights where his mind is particularly stuck on dwelling on what he doesn't know, but he wonders why someone would abandon their own child. Maybe that had, he at the time found himself thinking, something to do with why she had been close to crying and surprised when he turned up after finding out where she had gone off to after they separated. She had never had someone show back up for her after leaving. She was overjoyed to see him. Even though he was who he was. Even though he had been a killer. She was still as happy to see him as she was and he had found himself wanting to and managing to smile._

He can't remember someone worrying about his well-being. Marie, if he had ever voiced that thought, would argue that she was sure that his family was probably worried about it now. But his mind realized that she, Marie, had always asked him how he felt. She had known about his headaches and knew that those were always in the background with him, but she still asked because she wanted to hear his feelings. She, if she did not like the answer or did not know what to make of it, always sent him to lie down or to take a break. To take care of his pain before it got worse. She made him eat if she noticed he had not eaten and he had started to return the favor in kind. She had been bad during their reunion at remembering to eat like he had been when they had been trying to get answers about who he was and he had not cared to see her looking as rundown as she had. Throwing her all into keeping herself busy.

_Then there were the gentle touches._

_Marie was, for all intents and purposes, someone who was very fond of touch. He caught her often trying to brush his hand while they walked. It used to be very occasionally - typically whenever they were going to be walking somewhere with a fair amount of people or somewhere that was bound to fill to the brim with people. It was the easiest way to keep from getting separated, though Jason had always come up with meeting places for them in case they ever did, on their way to a hotel, or to catch a train out of a city. She would always grasp his hand tightly once he became aware of her bushing his hand and grasped it and while they rarely ever looked at each other during those walks, sometimes Jason had found himself taking a glance at her expression as they walked. Whenever he took her hand she had always seemed as if she was alight. She had always a smile, even when she had_

_But as the weeks turned into months and into years, Marie had gotten a little braver at trying to push for things that went beyond just holding hands and the few intimate nights they had. She had started to try to be playful towards him outside of whatever private space they were sharing for the night, sometimes swinging their arms ever so slightly and other times teasing him as they walked. Sometimes she would give him a peck on the lips before entering a store. Things that she had done in the past with her exes and things that she had seen other couples on the street doing. Jason had not been sure what to make of it at first but eventually fell into some sort of stride. He did not always react as she had expected but sometimes it was a pleasant surprise such as his arms wrapping around her as they sat in the sand on the beach or his head resting on her shoulder as they took an overnight train into a new country as he tried to get a couple of minutes rest. Though he always jolted out of each position just as quickly as he had seemed to settle into them as if he was sure someone or something was going to attack or otherwise interrupt their time._

\---------------------

“Marie?”

He had taken to nudging her shoulder while quietly calling her name. The sun had since gone down and the only source of real light came from the one lamp that had been turned on inside of the house and the stars that could be seen from the sky. Nothing particularly good for seeing into long distances or detecting a set of prying eyes.

"It's time to get up and come in."

The woman had begun to stir on the third try and after a moment of her rubbing her eyes and attempting to sit up (Jason noted that she had seemed a bit stiff.), she finally opened her eyes and began to mumble her under breath that she was awake. Her hair was sticking up in places and the light long sleeve top she had been wearing since she had come in from the hot afternoon sun had moved just enough to reveal a tattooed shoulder. She gave him a bleary eyes expression as she yawned and turned in the direction her name was called from. It took a few moments before she realized that Jason was standing above her and she tried to give him a small smile but it disappeared as another yawn surfaced.

“You were sleeping.” He started, "I didn't know where you were."

“I fell asleep?” Her response was quiet and more of a whisper, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He nodded as if he was saying that he knew and moved a stay strand of blonde hair out of her face. She gently placed her hand onto his wrist causing him to freeze in place momentarily but he gave her what passed for a smile, something that was a mere twitch of his lips and a lighter expression in his eyes. Not that, he was aware, she could see something so subtle.

They stared at each other for a few moments before something seemed to cross Marie's mind and she jerked upright, much more awake than she had been even a minute before whatever thought had crossed her mind.

“Oh, where’s my book? I was reading the one I got last week and - “

Before she could finish speaking, the man held the book that had been lying on the ground up out other with a slight smile. She had forgotten about her book and he almost wanted to chuckle but he had not in the end. Instead, he had calmly answered her question.

“It was next to you. Lying on the ground.”

Marie took the hardback and gave him a little, though sleepy, smile as she let go of his wrist and then held the book with both hands as if it was a lifeline. 

“Thank you.”

He merely nodded and then paused before adding, “The pages got a little bent, but I think keeping it shut for a while should fix that.”

She nodded then glanced down at the closed book and then added quietly, “It must have fallen when I conked out. I just remember being in the middle of a page and -"

Jason reached down and held his hand out towards her. She glanced up after a moment and tentatively took it allowing herself to be pulled up and onto her feet. She still held onto his hand and even gently squeezed it.

"I'm sorry. I should have said I was coming out here to read. I shouldn't have fallen asleep either but it's been a long day and -"

Jason frowned at the repeat apologies and then quietly started to lead her inside with a gentle tug of her arm.

“Its okay, Marie. It happened but nothing bad happened. Let’s just go in and get you to into bed.”

**End.**


End file.
